Station 23
by Field
Summary: In the Cross Culture series, set after Take Down, Archer and T'Mir switch roles, and he attacks a Romulan outpost to her chagrin, putting the crew in a very dangerous situation.
1. Part I

T'Mir stood in front of the Captain's desk while he grimly looked out his viewport as the stars moved from right to left. Her arm was immobilized, held tightly to her chest by a cloth sling. She attempted to guess the mood of the Captain, it was not good. He had not yet acknowledged her in the approximate 3.2 minutes she had been standing there.

"Captain?" she said at last.

He turned around, and immediately she decided she had been in error to call this upon herself.

"Do you know what Starfleet is going to say to all of this." He spat at her, lurching over his desk. "What am I going to tell them? We didn't recover anything." He gesticulated wildly at his computer screen, they held the downloaded recordings from the Romulan computer. "All I've got is sensor logs, star charts, crew entries, and – look at this – even a menu. What am I supposed to do with this!"

T'Mir quirked an eyebrow. "If you will recall, Captain, it was your duty to retrieve the information on the station's computer. It was not part of my objective."

He stared at her incredulously.

"You know what we're going to do." he started again, a mad glint in his cold eyes. He sat down, turning his computer screen to face her. "There are star charts of their region of space. They have a series of small outposts with small crew compliments. We'll infiltrate one of them and download the database from there."

"Captain!"

"This, here!" he jabbed at the screen, "Station 23, it's the closest one, with a standing crew compliment of three."

"It's unethical."

"It's a small price to pay." he justified, "Besides, I trusted you last time, now you're going to trust me."

Opening Theme: x The Killers, Bling x

Station 23

"How is he doing, Doctor?" T'Pol asked once the Doctor had come from behind the curtains.

The Denobulan smiled. "He's on the mend. I'm keeping him sedate, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind a visitor."

She cautiously accepted his invitation through the curtain. Her gaze fell on Commander Tucker, wrapped tightly into a sterile bed.

She stood over him. "Oh, Trip." she murmured softly. With a ginger hand, she combed through his hair, once, before she heard the Sick Bay doors admit a new occupant. She heard through the curtain.

"Hello, Doctor."

"How are you feeling today, T'Mir?"

"Well – thank you for your concern."

The Denobulan chuckled, "It's my job." T'Pol heard him press a hypospray into her neck.

T'Mir seemed to sigh.

"And the arm?" the Doctor continued, taking out his tricorder.

"I am finding it difficult to perform some routine tasks, but that is to be expected. There is no unusual sensation of pain which I cannot suppress."

Phlox tut-tutted at his readings. "I'd like to give you something for it anyway, keep the stress off your control. You are human, after all."

"Will there be a reaction?"

"I expect not." he said, pressing another injection into her neck. "You should be aware that the other injections will slow your healing process."

"I am aware. Thank you."

T'Pol jumped back as T'Mir opened the curtain. A guilty look leapt across her face, but T'Mir pretended not to notice as she shut the curtain.

"I had expected to find you here." the younger began, "How is he doing?"

T'Pol cleared her throat subtly before answering. "I am told he is doing well, although the Doctor is keeping him sedate."

T'Mir nodded, checking the vital readings above him, still nodding to herself. "Good." She pulled over a small stool tucked in the side of the room, and settled upon it.

T'Pol watched her – it was the first time she had seen this young girl not confronting the Captain or another crewmember, or herself – it was unsettling, but pleasant at the same time.

"We have not had much opportunity to discuss the situation." T'Mir said, suddenly looking up.

T'Pol snapped to rigid attention, schooling her features. "I'm not certain what you are referring to."

T'Mir looked back down, unfazed. "It does not matter to me if you show your emotions here." she said, "But feigning naivete is unseemly."

T'Pol couldn't hide the dead-shock that came over her.

T'Mir sighed, openly and heavily. "I apologize."

"There is no need." T'Pol shook her head. She glanced around for a stool of her own, pulling one over to sit on.

"He was very courageous when we infiltrated the shipyard." T'Mir began, still looking down at Trip, "I'm certain he saved my life."

"As you saved his." T'Pol acknowledged, "If not for the first time."

"Do you remember the first thing you said to me?"

"You awoke on this bed, but we were attacked soon after. I asked you how you could be certain of your actions."

T'Mir smiled. "I meant aboard the mining station, when you and Sa'mekh came to save my life."

T'Pol blinked in response.

"You said..." T'Mir's eyes glistened through her smile, and she sniffed, "you said 'Hello... I am your mother." T'Mir shook her head, feigning confusion, "I was six months old... I barely understood language."

X X X

"Hoshi," Malcom stood in front of the comm station on the Bridge, speaking quietly, "I wonder if you could give me a hand with something?"

She looked up, and replied brightly, "With what, Sir?"

He glanced around nervously, "I'm attempting to realign some of the sensor grids, I could use your expertise."

"My expertise." She laughed, "I don't know what my expertise could do, but I'll certainly help if I can." She stood up and headed for the turbolift.

Malcolm slinked behind her, scanning the Bridge for any unusual behaviour as they exited.

"What the hell was that?" he exclaimed once the doors had shut behind them.

"What?"

"Co-vert Op-erations." he over-enunciated. "Co-vert. Quietly. You could have blown our cover."

"Malcolm." she laughed in exasperation, "That was hardly covert. Beside, what's so urgent it couldn't wait until after my shift."

"This." he thrust a PADD at her. "I received it in communication with Harris this morning."

She flipped through it quickly.

"Can you do it?"

"Fake a distress call?" she looked worried. "I can, but it's going to take some time before I can make it completely untraceable."

"Good." Malcolm nodded, "We've got one week until we reach the Captain's space station. We'll move shortly after."

She nodded. Malcolm pressed the door release, and she exited back out to the Bridge.

"Done so soon?" the Captain asked when she reappeared.

"I can work better from up here." she said quietly, flashing the PADD as way of proof.

"Good." he said, staring back out the main viewscreen in anticipation, "Carry on."


	2. Part II

"We are here, Sir." Travis announced, dropping the Enterprise out of warp.

"Excellent." Captain Archer stood from his chair. He surveyed the large asteroid field ahead of them.

"Captain." T'Pol said unenthusiastically, "We are still several days from the station."

"I know." he said absent-mindedly, "How's Trip feeling?"

"The Doctor released him to duty yesterday." she replied.

"Good." he turned to her, "Have him help you prep. the Shuttlepods."

She gave him a worried glance, but agreed, "Yes, Captain."

Jon clapped his hand on Travis' shoulder. "See if you can't find somewhere for us to settle into, Ensign."

"Sir?"

The Captain nodded to the field in front of them. "Go on, Travis, I'm sure you can find a way in."

"Aye, Sir." He glanced up apprehensively, but pushed the manual controls ahead.

X X X

"Captain, this is either madness or brilliance." T'Mir said.

The senior officers, along with a select few Security Officers, Doctor Phlox, and T'Mir were gathered in the Situation Room, eyeing a schematic of the ship's current position.

"Yes, Travis did some amazing flying." Captain Archer smiled.

"And with those modifications to the exhaust manifolds, the Romulans shouldn't even know we're comin'." Trip laughed. The two looked as though they were about to exchange high-fives, but suddenly settled on clapping each other on the shoulders.

"Captain, if we are required to retreat at any point – say if we are discovered by a Romulan patrol, for which the likelihood is high – our situation will become highly disadvantageous." T'Pol reasoned.

"I know." Jon sobered up, slightly, but continued to explain his plain with confidence.

"Travis, I'm afraid I'm going to need you to stay here." The Captain turned to him, "If we are required to make a hasty retreat, you're the best man for the job."

"Aye, sir. It's not a problem." the Ensign replied.

"You will have command of the Enterprise while we're on the station."

Travis nodded.

"Hoshi, I know you've got the UTs configured, but you never know when you'll need a translator."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Phlox, I don't expect to need a medical officer, but I'd like you there just in case."

The Doctor chuckled, "Of course, Captain, I'm always willing to tag along."

"I want a strong security force with us as well, so we're not surprised like last time. Even though there will just be a small compliment on board, we should be prepared."

Malcolm nodded to the Captain, "Yes, Sir." and again to his officers.

"Besides, the more people we have on board, the faster we can search the station. T'Pol?"

"Yes, Captain."

He accepted her agreement with a nod.

"Trip, T'Mir, if you're feeling up to it, I could use you here as well. You've been in contact with the Romulans, and you're familiar with their technology."

"I'll be there, Cap'n."

"Captain, I still find this plan to be completely illogical." T'Mir refused.

The Captain swivelled his neck around awkwardly. "It can't be as illogical as your plan: 'Hey, let's go blow up a shipyard for no reason'."

"There was perfectly sound reason behind it, Captain. You are wanting to infiltrate an outpost in the middle of the Romulan domain to gather information. The mission is completed, Captain, it was successful – do not add to the risk."

"The risk?" the Captain shouted, "The risk!" He stormed half-way across the room, and turned to face the complacent Vulcan. "This plan at least has structure, my officers know what they're fighting for, the calculated risk is acceptable. Now, are you well enough to join the mission."

She set her jaw, and quickly tucked trembling fingers behind her back. "Yes, Captain."

"Good."

X X X

"Movie night, tonight?" Trip asked casually, a pocket light dangling between his teeth.

"What is the film for tonight?" T'Pol asked in return, forcing her hand not to tremble while she held the microcalipers firm around the junction they were realigning.

"T'Mir picked one 'a her favourites, she told me." he slurred around the stylus, and smiled again, "Frankenstein."

"I may have other duties to attend to." T'Pol said, a touch of anxiety reaching in her voice.

Trip half smiled around the light, and gave her a look that distinctly said, 'I see through your act, missy' as he took the tool from his mouth.

She hastily removed the calipers and turned to leave. "Please call me if you require further assistance, Commander."

"Bye, T'Pol." he muttered, and turned back to finish closing up the grate with a heavy sigh.

X X X

"Where's T'Pol?" the Captain asked, dipping a hand in to the bowl of popcorn on Trip's lap.

"I dunno." Trip said around a mouth-full, "She said she might have other duties tonight."

"Oh, well." the Captain said, "I suppose we really all should be working this close to a mission."

"Nonsense, I've been lookin' forward to this all week." Trip laughed.

"Where's T'Mir?" Malcolm suddenly lurched over Trip's shoulder for the popcorn.

Trip had to look around, she certainly wasn't in the empty seat beside him. "She should be here," he grew concerned, "She wanted to watch this."

"Do you want me to go look for her?" the Captain offered.

Trip was about to agree, but thought better of it, relaxing into his chair as the opening credits rolled up, "Nah, maybe she's got some other duty to attend to."

Malcolm and the Captain exchanged glances as they watched their Chief Engineer slump back, entirely at ease, a smile spreading across his face.

X X X

"I am glad you were able to come." T'Pol opened the door to her quarters in her pyjamas.

"I was pleased you invited me." T'Mir nodded, stepping into the candle-lit room.

"Meditation is more powerful when completed in tandem." T'Pol answered, following her to the meditation lantern.

"Indeed." T'Mir quirked.

They sat in silence for several minutes, their breathing collectively slowing, but each was aware of the other's discomfort.

Finally, T'Pol broke the failing meditation. "Give me your hand."

T'Mir was taken aback, but set her open palm atop T'Pol's. "What is the effectiveness of this?" she asked quietly.

"You wear your emotions too close to the surface." T'Pol studied the hand, "This will allow us to synchronize our breathing and heart rates. It is a technique often used by parents to help their children."

T'Mir glanced up quickly, wondering if T'Pol knew the inflection of what she had just said, but T'Pol's gaze remained on their hands.

"Not that you require help in meditation, I simply thought it might help given the situation."

"It is logical."

"Now, meditate."

The two shut their eyes, and their breathing began to slow once more.


	3. Part III

The movie finished and Trip still had a decidedly complacent smile on his face. Why, he couldn't tell, but he felt happy. Even when the movie had stopped suddenly, and the Captain had stepped on his foot in an attempt to cross in front, and when Malcolm had inadvertently dropped popcorn across his shoulder, screaming in his ear. Everything seemed okay.

"Hey, Trip." The Captain waved his arm in front of Trip's face. It was a little alarming that Trip could be so far gone, even through one of his old favourites.

The Commander snapped back into focus. "Oh, sorry, Cap'n." He rubbed his palms on his thighs and stood up, a delighted grin spreading across his face. "I think I'm gonna go check on T'Pol, see if she needs any help – it's not fair that she missed the entire movie."

Befuddled, Jon watched his young friend all-but skip away. "Alright, Trip."

X X X

T'Mir opened her eyes in a brilliant white space. Oddly, the sound of lapping waves echoed around the infinite expanse, and slowly the landscape morphed into a pristine beach extending in all directions.

T'Pol was standing ankle deep in the shifting shoreline. She turned as T'Mir approached her.

"What's happening?" T'Mir asked.

"Is this where you meditate?" T'Pol asked in return.

T'Mir looked around. "Yes." she answered.

T'Pol said nothing, but turned to look over the sea. "It is aesthetically pleasing, yet surprisingly relaxing." The spray from a surf misted over her, and she inhaled deeply. "Is it a memory."

"In part." T'Mir said, stepping beside T'Pol and inhaling the smell of the ocean. "It is a place that I have imagined from my Sa'mekh's tales of beaches on Earth."

They stood quietly, awkwardly, for a few moments.

"Have we bonded, you and I?" T'Pol asked.

"I believe that is obvious from our present state."

They stood quietly again, calmly.

"The film is over. Commander Tucker is coming." T'Mir announced.

"We should cease our meditation. He may wish neuropressure, or –," she wrinkled her face in distaste, "to talk."

A ghost of a smile passed on T'Mir's face. "It is a human need."

"Indeed ... I hear the door chime."

X X X

T'Pol opened her eyes in her dimly lit quarters. She stood quickly and answered the door. Trip was waiting patiently outside.

"You didn't make it to tha movie." he said.

"I was otherwise occupied." she told him, and stepped aside so he could enter.

"T'Mir!" he said in excitement when he saw her still seated on the floor.

She rose gracefully. "I was just going, Commander."

"Hey, Liz." he stopped her by the arm as she brushed past.

She stopped in her tracks, turning to face him, with shock-widened eyes like saucers.

"Sorry." he said quickly, jerking his hand off of her, "T'Mir." He dumbly focussed on the floor in front of him as he explained, "I just thought we could talk... all of us."

"I have work to complete." she said coldly, turning crispy and exiting.

"Neither of ya came to movie night." Trip said after a minute.

T'Pol nodded, taking a deep breath, and starting to move past him. "No. Our time was better spent meditating."

"Good." Trip said cautiously, but not hesitating as he sat down on the floor ahead of the lamp she was about to lift and put away.

Surprised, she sat down opposite him. "Indeed."

He flashed her a big smile, his own ability to take the emotion our of their conversations significantly diminished. "Was it helpful? Did everythin' work out okay? She can – you know, do that stuff – 'cause she's half human?"

She shifted her eyes covertly to the side. "Tell me, have you begun to bond with her?"

"Sorry?" he shook his head, "I don't know."

T'Pol took this in for a moment, processing. "I believe she and I have bonded."

Trip's smile widened so that he was positively beaming in the dark quarters.

T'Pol did not appear so enthused.

"Wha's wrong?" Trip asked, suddenly sobering.

T'Pol looked up, as though remembering that he was across from her. "It is ... unexpected."

"But good, right?"

"It is very agreeable." she nodded, "We were able to mindspeak when in contact. I was not aware such a strong bond could form over such a short period of time."

Trip shrugged. "She's been here more'n two months."

"Her mind is very whimsical, yet organized. It is a thing to be respected." T'Pol said with the Vulcan impression of sentiment, "Not unlike your own."

This caused an undeniable smile on the Engineer's face. "I'm glad." He reached across and took her hand in a reassuring squeeze.

She squeezed back.


	4. Part IV

Tensions fluxuated in the shuttlepods during the three day flight to the station. Trip piloted one shuttle with T'Mir, T'Pol, Malcolm, and Ensign Korenko. Captain Archer piloted the other with Hoshi, Phlox, and two security officers: Lieutenant Grace and Ensign Giano. The shuttles were cramped, to say the least.

T'Pol sniffed, her nasal inhibitor wearing off. "What is our estimated time of arrival, Commander?"

"Should just be another couple'a hours." Trip replied. He stretched his arms out with an audible pop and a loud groan.

"You should get some rest, allow me to take over the controls." T'Pol offered, "Your performance will benefit if you are mentally refreshed."

"A little meditation?" Trip chuckled, standing up to face her.

"I would not be so presumptuous, but yes, it would benefit you."

He laughed, patting her on the shoulder as they passed. "Thanks." The touch was electric. He let it linger, perhaps just a moment longer than he should have.

"Commander?" she protested at last.

"Sorry." he whispered, and proceeded to pick his way to the only available piece of bench.

X X X

"Captain?" Malcolm sat down next to his CO, "Are you alright?"

Jon physically snapped out of his reverie. "I'm fine." he snapped a little too defensively.

Malcolm made a show of studying his face a little deeper.

Jon sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "I'm just going over everything in my head."

"And?"

"And – it's perfect. It's too easy. I'm not nervous anymore, and that's what worries me."

X X X

The crews from the two shuttles met in a corridor on the space station in between the two docking sites. Intruder alert sirens rang around them, but they were unfazed. Malcolm's team headed the front and the rear, the Captain leading close behind. The crew looked warily down corridors, while the Vulcans used their scanners on the vicinity.

The Captain stopped, and addressed them. "From here, we split up. T'Pol, you and Lt. Grace head down there, see if you can find anything."

"Yes, Captain." T'Pol nodded, and the two disappeared down an adjunct corridor.

"Korenko and Phlox, take a look around that corridor."

Phlox smiled, and bowed slightly, before calmly striding off in the direction he was assigned.

"Giano, take T'Mir and search the upper level. Malcolm, take Hoshi, and check out the lower levels.

The teams parted, each with a stony expression.

"Trip, you and I will try to find out the computer core and shut off this blasted alarm."

"Sounds good to me, Cap'n."

X X X

"Malcolm!" Hoshi exclaimed as they wandered the empty corridors. "Can't you just listen for thirty seconds?"

"What?" he exclaimed back, "There's only one way to do this."

"You're going to have to respect me if we're going to work together."

"With all respect, Ensign, I've been doing this sort of thing a lot longer than you."

"That doesn't make you better at it." she snapped back, "Don't forget, I'm the one who broke your cover. Harris wanted me for a reason."

Malcolm put up his hand suddenly and stopped. "What was that?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Lieutenant, I have expertise and you need them."

"Shhh..."

She turned, fit to lecture, normally gentle eyes on fire. "Don't –."

She didn't have time to scream before a silent figure dropped down behind her, covering her mouth and taking her away.

X X X

"We are being pursued, Ensign." T'Pol stated quietly, breaking their otherwise silent search.

"Are you seeing something on your scanner?" Grace asked.

"No." she said quizzically, "I can hear them."

The two women looked up, just as their soon-to-be captors dropped on top of them.

X X X

"Yeah, Cap'n, I –." Trip was stopped midsentence. "T'Pol." He muttered absently, looking down the corridor where she had left him.

"Trip? What's going on."

"I don't know."

The Captain let out a muffled gasp behind him.

Trip turned, startled, and felt a similar manhold on him.

X X X

"Ensign, we're not safe here." T'Mir said, looking around her surroundings, in the plain dark corridor.

"Don't worry, miss." he said soothingly to her, "The Captain says this outpost is abandonned, except for three scientists. We're safe, we just have to find them."

"The Captain was incorrect." she stated flatly.

He stared at her incredulously.

She tilted her head to one side, listening. "They're coming."

"Miss?"

"Run!" she screamed.

He watched her sprint down a corridor, and turned to run himself, but he was taken down when one of the assassins fell onto him. He had just enough time to watch her look back, panic plain in her eyes, before they gagged and blindfolded him and lifted him up to carry away.

X X X

Trip fell on top of the Captain as their captors pushed them into a small holding cell on the far end of a laboratory.

Jon rolled over as the door was closed behind them. "What are you going to do to us?" he yelled in vain at the sterile wall.

Trip was slightly more proactive with his agitation. He sprang to his feet and pounded on the door. "Hey! Heeeyyyy!" he shouted through the plexiglass windows.

Jon, perhaps, was more held together. "Trip." he said apprehensively, "Trip." The Captain looked up from the floor at the group of people packed tightly into the far end of the small cell.

Hoshi stepped forward. "Captain, they're hostages, they've been here for nearly a month."

Malcolm helped the Captain to his feet. "There's more than just three scientists on board, Sir. There's a definite military presence – I've counted ten soldiers so far."

The Captain nodded, as he staggered to his feet. "What about the others – did they get out?"

"The only ones not here are T'Mir and Ensign Giano. It is logical to assume they may still be uncaptured." T'Pol stepped up to meet them.

The sound of mechanical doors across the room caught their attention. They were able to see, through a large viewing window, as Ensign Giano put up a fruitless, tired fight against his captors. He was unceremoniously carried across the room and thrown into the cell.

They rushed to him and picked him up. "Where's T'Mir?" Trip yelled frantically, "T'Mir?"

He breathed heavily for a moment. "She ran." he coughed out, "She –." He collapsed.

Trip hauled him back up. "Where is she now?"

Another swoosh of the door followed by a loud grunt answered the question. They tossed her in as well.

She stumbled to her feet quickly, and threw her weight against the closing door. She was too slow, and it shut despite her efforts. A small silent sob came out as she slid down the door.

She rose shortly, a calm look of complacence across her face. She cast a look out the window as her only sign of frustration as she lifted her hand to wipe bright green blood out of the corner of her mouth.


	5. Part V

"Captain, it sounds like they're being held here for experimentation." Hoshi reported quietly.

"What kind of experiments?" the Captain scanned the hostages worriedly.

Hoshi spoke a few words to them and translated for the Captain. "Genetic experiments, mutilation, enhancements."

"What?" the Captain was shocked.

"It seems this outpost is operated by a branch of the Romulan military that's researching augments to the military."

The Captain clenched his jaw.

The door to the cell opened and admitted a heavily decorated General and his two guards.

The prisoners fell back against the wall, but the Captain stepped up to meet him. "I'm Captain Jonathan Archer." he started, puffing up his chest.

"You have violated Romulan space," the robust general called over them. He, like his officers, wore a head covering military scarf, of which he had not pulled down the veil from over his nose and mouth. "Where is the rest of your crew?"

The captain waved his hands to try and settle the general, but it had the opposite effect. "I'm certain we can come to some kind of understanding."

"Your ship, Captain?"

"Let my men go."

"I can't do that, Captain. My government has strict guidelines for the treatment of trespassers."

"What do you intend to do to us?"

"Oh, Captain." he laughed coldly, "I'm inclined to kill you, and all the people in this cell, and then I'll take your shuttles and find your ship and take it to Romulus to study your technology." The general turned away.

With a glance to his engineer, the Captain lurched after the General, and spun him around, fist flying.

The general was too fast, and caught him below the ribs with the butt of his staff. The Captain fell as the air was forced out of his lungs. The General caught him once more above the right eye.

"Hey!" Trip called, as he tackled the General. In one swift movement, the guards had the Commander in their grasp, and dragged him out of the room. The General shut the door behind him.

X X X

"So, Commander," the General sneered, "We are not an unpleasant people. As a show of good faith, we'll help you. Who will it be? Who's most important to you."

Trip peered up through hazy eyes. There was that beautiful girl, speaking thoughts to her beautiful mother, and then he knew: they weren't going to help him. He focussed on the Captain, and made a point of it.

"Ah, the Captain! An interesting choice." commented the Romulan, "But it wasn't your first, now was it? Bring the Vulcan, the girl." he shouted to the guard.

X X X

_I'll be alright. Fear is the mind killer._ Were the last words T'Mir mindspoke to her mother as the guards pulled her away. She pushed them off her arms, preferring the dignity of her own mobility.

They walked her past Trip toward the door. She made brief eye contact with him, calmly, hoping he would hold out, no matter what.

The guards turned her sharply, coming about in front of a medical cart. They pushed her down, roughly, onto her knees so that she slumped down, biting back the pain of impact.

Trip squirmed in his chair, but didn't say anything.

The General stepped in front of him holding a green-yellow cylinder. "Do you know what this is, Commander. It's a neurolytic compound, a torture device really." He mulled it over in his hand, "We were in the practice of using it on defectors of the Empire, but it was outlawed for the sheer inhumanity of it. You see, it stimulates all the neural fibres at once – your skin burns, blood boils, the mind loses it's stability. I've heard it's much worse on Vulcans.

"First, I expect she'll lose all that pleasant Vulcan control, usually hallucination follows shortly after, and in a matter of minutes, complete loss of brain activity. But don't worry, the subject usually dies, in convulsions, of tachycardia before that final unpleasantness – so you see, I am a decent person." The General grinned poisonously before stepping behind T'Mir.

T'Mir raised her head, proud in sacrifice, taking a final stilling breath, holding eye contact with T'Pol.

T'Pol raised her hand up to the glass, more fear running through her veins than she thought to ever be possible. She felt the reserve of the hostages around her, how they stepped back, how they knew her daughter was going to die.

The Romulan reached around T'Mir's neck, pulling her head back, loaded hypospray poised. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me, Commander." After a brief silence, he stabbed down with his left hand, an air pressure hiss sounding through the room.

T'Mir inhaled noisily, painfully. She rocked forward, folding almost in half, clawing at her neck.

Quickly, the Romulan rushed toward Trip, loading the injector with a new red vial. "You see this," he shouted, "this is the antidote, it has to be administered soon or she will die! Where is your ship? Tell me!"

T'Mir clawed raggedly at her neck, arms, face, leaving trails of blood. A green vein bulged across her forehead. She screamed unreservedly all the while, never letting up for breath, bearing too much pain. She laid half on her side, still on her knees, muttering in Vulcan, "Atan ni'arha, j'jenun ... dobres, valartia. Atan ni'arha..."

Trip sobbed, fixated to the writhing sight in front of him. "There's am asteroid belt..." Trip started.

T'Mir acted now, springing to life. There was a guard directly behind her, noisy, and she swung up and into him, her fist contacting his jaw. She turned, leaving him with a solid kick that sent him flying, and she elbowed the general to her side. He staggered, and she caught him with her left fist and then her right, sending him sprawling across the floor before he'd even had a chance to react. The last guard came running at her, and she was able to bash his head against her knee and shove him across the floor.

X X X

The Romulans in the room were disabled. Her vision swam out of focus, the room loomed in front of her. All the clearheadedness adrenaline had left in battle was suddenly stripped as the drug began to affect her. There was something else – something – there, on the floor, the hypospray: an antidote – why? The drug. It was affecting her.

She took a shaky footstep towards it, stumbling immediately. Breaths came out as rags. She crawled past the General on the floor – napping, she wanted a nap, she could just lie down right here – if it was good enough for a General... He sure flung that thing a long way when he fell.

Her leg tremoured, and she was forced once again into a kneeling position. She reached out one long arm and grabbed the device, curling over into a foetal position. She had the hypospray – now what, what did Phlox always do? Hibernate, maybe she could hibernate. No, that wasn't it. She plunged the injector tip haphazardly into her neck, and it released.

She rolled over, groaning. The tremours spread across her body. She whimpered quietly as each one shook her. The pain was so much, everywhere, but someone stood before her, held her up. It was T'Pol, her hair was shorter then, so long ago, her first memories of happiness. And then her heart stopped.

X X X

"T''Mir! T'Mir!" Trip screamed frantically, struggling wildly against his restraints.

The onlookers in the booth watched in horrified silence. T'Pol felt Trip's heart breaking in complement to her own. A violent sob shook her, her emotional control faltered.

Without premonition, T'Mir's eyes flashed wide open and she sucked in air as her torso convulsed. She lay on the floor for a minute, breathing heavily. She blinked, as though trying to remember where she was.

Suddenly, with renewed determination, she hit the floor with her hand and used the momentum to help her raise herself up. She staggered weakly to the observation booth, taking a moment to rest with her forehead against the glass, breath fogging the glass in the doors. With steeled resolve, she punched in the code to unlock the doors. Then the room went dark, and just voices and footsteps floated past her.

X X X

One of the hostages caught her as she fell, and then she felt her mother's firm grip helping to bring her to the bench on the wall. Someone unlocked Trip's restraints, and he came running; she heard a prayer under his breath. He reached her, combing through her hair, feeling all over her face, determining that she was really alive before him.

Dr. Phlox was there, he pushed his way in, drawing his medical scanner over her. He said something, but it was lost among her pain and convulsions.

X X X

"She's in shock." Phlox announced to the room. "I'll need a sedative, somebody find me a sedative in all this mess. Come on people, look!"

"What's happenin', Doc?" Trip asked. Beneath his arms, his daughter was flailing wildly, screaming incoherently, wild eyes imparting a sense of doom.

"She's in neurolytic shock, Commander, her heart stopped. Frankly, I'm not sure how she's even alive."

"Here, sir." an ensign ran up, holding out another vial.

Phlox scanned it. "It will do." Then he jabbed it too into her neck

"What was that?" Trip questioned.

"A sedative, Mr. Tucker... I hope."

"Doc?"

"We'll have to see." was the Doctor's cold response.


	6. Part VI

Travis maneouvered the ship out of the asteroid belt as quickly as he dared. The Captain was breathing down his neck again – this time, with good reason. They all looked in rough shape. No one had spoken of it, but by their agitated demeanor, Travis guessed the plan had not been executed so simply.

"T'Pol." the Captain barked, "you have the Bridge. I'm going to see if we got what we needed this time."

She accepted without a word.

X X X

Hoshi and Malcolm sat facing each other in his dimly lit quarters. Their faces were inches apart, knees barely touching.

"Harris wants us to carry out the plan as soon as possible."

Neither of them held any expression on their face.

"It's ready." Hoshi said, handing him a PADD.

Malcolm scorlled through it, it's screen illuminating his face. He nodded in grim appreciation.

X X X

T'Pol approached the double doors of the medical office, but she slowed when she heard the sound of music – a 12-string baliset, played with the utmost care.

The sickbay held two patients, both which were intrinsically both aware and unaware of the other's consciousness.

T'Mir held a steady lyrical rhythm on the baliset, strumming and tapping with her thumb to give a soul-wrenching earthy tone. Then she began to sing in time, releasing a prowess Trip never knew could exist in the Vulcan existence.

_Zup-tor vu akarshif fi'aifa mazhiv  
__T'Ish hokni'es kwi'shoret  
__Kling akhlami buhfik  
Nam-tor wak yon svi'if yontau au.  
_

_Dungi tu sahrafel?  
I terrupik khaf,  
__I Vuhlkan khaf  
__fasei setebihk t'ovsotuhl-ozhika _

_Tusa na'kusut heh kali-tor na'rishan  
__ulidar t'falek, t'yon mazhiv  
__Nam-tor wak yon svi'if yontau au.  
_

_Pthak svi'zherka  
Kup-fai-tor  
spes t'shaula eh t'utan'es - spes t'ozhika  
__Ri nam-tor Nam rik'au.  
_

_kusut vel t'kashek, Kup-putash-tor  
__Ish-veh ni komihn  
Dungi tu sahrafel?  
Ki'nam-tor heh kwon-sum dungau t'hai'la t'du.  
_

_Nam-tor wak yon svi'if yontau au.  
Dungi tu sahrafel?_

Her strumming became louder, and faster, but the tune stayed sombre.

_You have laboured long upon these sands.  
__A consciousness calling you from space.  
__Not one of us is perfect.  
__Time is the fire in which we burn._

_Would you trust me,  
__One of Human blood?  
__One of Vulcan blood?  
__A symbol of logic._

_Weep for pain, fight for survival.  
__The mark of heat.  
__The scar of burning sand.  
__Time is the fire in which we burn._

_Fear amongst emotions  
__I am able to know  
__The voice of reason, compassion – the voice of logic  
__Unable to exist without_

_Pain, thing of the mind,  
__Can be controlled in one so human  
__Would you trust me?  
__I have and always shall be your friend._

_Time is the fire in which we burn.  
__Would you trust me?_

As the last chord died away, she lifted her head. Their eyes met, and he knew the song was meant for him. T'Pol stood where she had stopped in the hall just beyond the doors, a facade of calm gently covering the racing pulse and crippling nerve impulses that ran through her body.


End file.
